Legacy of Brisingr
by Lord Drax
Summary: Galbatorix is dead, but peace is short-lived. When the minions of Arkon invade Alagaesia, new heroes must rise to defeat them.
1. Prologue

Prologue:

It has been seventy years since the tyrant Galbatorix was killed by Eragon Shadeslayer. Since then Alagaesia has been relativly peaceful as each race and nation recovered from war. The former Empire has made peace with the Dwarves, the Elves, and Surda. Elves and Dwarves are now allowed to walk freely in territory once ruled by Galbatorix. The Dragon Riders have returned, but there are fewer of them than there were before the Fall. They have returned to Vroengard and resumed their roles as protectors of Alagaesia.

Even though Galbatorix is gone, evil lives on. Strange people dressed in desert clothes have been seen roaming the land and practicing violent rituals. Recently, an army of five thousand Urgals invaded Surda. They were defeated with the help of a Dragon Rider named Aravir and his dragon Voden. When asked why they attacked Surda, the Urgals claimed that Arkon commanded them to take Surda. Little did Aravir know that he would soon come face to face with a force that would change Alagaesia forever.

The story will begin shortly after the last battle with the Urgals. Tell me what you think of it so far.


	2. Departure and Veiled Threats

**I don't own the Inheritance Cycle.**

_Surda_

Aravir gave a sigh of relief as the camp came into view. He'd been in Surda for over a week and the hummidity was getting to him. Fair skinned and blond haired, Aravir preferred the cooler mountain air of The Spine Mts. to Surda's dry heat. The black jerkin that Aravir was wearing only made it worse. His silver dragon,Voden, had no problem with the heat and was taking his time returning from their patrol.

_Lord Garm isn't going to approve of this._ said Voden.

_We don't need his approval!_ snapped Aravir. _Besides, the Surdans don't need us any more. We routed the Urgals two days ago and they all retreated across the northern border. You and I may as well return to Vroengard._

_I'm not disagreeing with you, but he might try to strangle you when he hears we're leaving._ replied Voden.

_But you'd never let him do that, would you?_asked Aravir.

_True, I'd tear him apart._stated Voden.

Aravir smirked and scratched one of Voden's silver scales._Then I have nothing to worry about._he said.

It was late afternoon when they arrived at the Surdan camp. Voden landed right by the entrance, startling the guards. Aravir dismounted, apologized to the guards, and entered the camp. Some of the soldiers stopped and stared at him. Aravir knew they didn't entirely trust him. Ever since the war to overthrow Galbatorix, fear of Dragon Riders had increased. Aravir couldn't blame the soldiers, he wouldn't trust a Dragon Rider if he were in their positon. Then again, Aravir didn't trust most people he met.

Not wanting to waste time, Aravir headed straight for Lord Garm's tent. He took a few sips from his waterskin and entered the tent. Lord Garm had his back turned. Aravir glared at him. Lord Garm had tried to undermine Aravir's authority as a Rider ever since he arrived in Surda. He was gazing intently at something Aravir couldn't see. After Aravir cleared his throat Lord Garm turned to face him. " What news?" he asked.

"There has been no sign of the Urgals since their defeat two days ago."Aravir began. "It appears they've left Surda. That's why Voden and I will be leaving soon."

"WHAT?"bellowed Garm. Red-faced with veins sticking out on his forehead, Lord Garm indeed looked ready to strangle Aravir.

Aravir was unmoved by Garm's outburst. "My lord, you don't need us, not anymore." he said calmly.

"What if the Urgals come back, did you ever think of that possiblity?" demanded Garm.

"You have everthing under control here." Aravir stated. "If they invade again, which is unlikely, I have faith in your ablity to lead these men to victory a second time."

Lord Garm was livid. "You can't-" he shouted.

"We leave tomorrow morning." Aravir cut him off and turned to go.

Lord Garm could only scowl at Aravir's back as he left the tent.

* * *

_Vroengard_

Eragon Shadeslayer, Lord of the Dragon Riders, finished reading the list of true names and leaned back in his chair. The list was one of many written by his students who were learning the Ancient Language. These days, Eragon often stayed up late reading them. He was about to start reading the next one on the pile when some one knocked on the door to his private study.

Eragon looked up. "Enter." he said.

The door opened and Murtagh walked in. Despite being nearly a century old, Murtagh looked to be in his mid-twenties. Eragon looked just as young, an advantage of being a Dragon Rider. Murtagh sank into the nearest empty chair and sighed.

Eragon waited a few minutes then asked "Any word from Surda?"

Murtagh nodded."Aravir and Voden left yesterday. They don't believe Arkon will be ordering another attack any time soon."

"I see." replied Eragon."And what do we know about this Arkon?" he asked.

Murtagh shrugged."Rumers mostly. Some say he is a giant from Dwarf legend. Others say he's a god. According to Aravir, the Urgals claim he's the true ruler of Alagaesia. The only person I know of who could command the Urgals like this was Durza."

Eragon looked perturbed and asked "You think Arkon could be a Shade?"

"It's a possiblity. We'll have to talk to Aravir and Voden when they get back."said Murtagh.

"Lets give them a few days rest before speaking to them, it's a long journey from Surda to this island." suggested Eragon. Murtagh understood. Eragon thought of the new Riders almost like his children, especially since their dragons were Saphira's children.

"Now, what of these strangers from the Hadarac Desert?" asked Murtagh.

"At first they kept to themselves, but lately they've become more active." replied Eragon. "They have many supporters in Dras-Leona. From what I hear some of the former worshipers of Helgrind have joined their movement."

"Wonderful, those poor bastards abandon one bloody cult just to join another one." Murtagh retorted.

"It gets better, a few weeks ago they tried to sacrifice a live person simply because this person didn't believe what they believe." said Eragon. "They were stopped by an elf."

"And who's the brave elven hero?" asked Murtagh wryly.

"Lord Dathedr's daughter, the cult has labeled her a heretic." Eragon replied with a shake of his head.

Murtagh laughed. "They might as well label all elves as heretics if that's the case. What's her name, anyway?"

"It's Letiri." Eragon began. "We should keep an eye on her, as well as this cult."

Murtagh nodded. "Agreed. If there's nothing else important we need to discuss right now then I'm going to bed."

Eragon bade his brother good night and put away the list of true names for the night.

* * *

**This chapter was your basic introduction to charactors and conflict. I wanted to introduce Aravir and Voden because they'll be important. I also wanted to throw in a mystery or two because I like to keep you guessing.**

**By the way, what should the former Empire be called now that Galbatorix is dead? I'm open to suggestions. You can send me your suggestions in your reviews.**

**I look forward to your reviews.**


	3. Homecoming

**I want to thank those who reviewed the Prologue and Chapter 1. I know you've been waiting for an update. I listed some of the charactor's ages below.**

**Eragon: 90 (roughly)**

**Aravir: 25**

**Murtagh: 93**

**Here's Chapter 2.**

* * *

_Vroengard_

Edoc'sil, the fortress that was home to the new Dragon Riders, was located on the south-western side of Vroengard. Eragon and Saphira stood at its gates watching Voden's progress. The silver dragon's approach had been spotted by a watchman half an hour earlier. Eragon had been informed immediately. He wanted to greet his former apprentices personally.

The sun's rays reflected off Voden's scales as he landed. Aravir quickly dismounted and strode over to Eragon and Saphira, Voden beside him. Eragon looked him over. Aravir was an inch or two taller than Eragon with short blond hair and bright green eyes. He wore bracers on his wrist and a dark blue cloak over a leather jerkin.

Eragon greeted them with a warm smile. "Voden, Aravir, welcome back." he said.

"Ebrithil." they both said, Voden speaking with his mind.

_Well met hatchlings. _Saphira greeted them.

_Well met, Mother._ replied Voden. Aravir gave her a respectful bow.

"Your stay in Surda went well?" Eragon asked while scratching his goatee.

"It was hot, I had some bureaucrat criticizing my every action, and there were scores of Urgals trying to kill us." came Aravir's wry response. "I can't wait to go back."

Eragon hid a smirk. He knew that that sarcastic quip was the closest thing to 'It's good to be home' he'd ever get from Aravir. The young Rider wasn't much for pleasantries.

"You two must be weary and hungry after your journey." Eragon said and started walking back towards the Edoc'sil's open gates. Aravir followed him.

_There's a herd of deer grazing less than a mile north of here. _Saphira looked in that direction as she spoke.

She and Voden flew off to hunt. Eragon and Aravir entered Edoc'sil and headed for the mess hall. Aravir would eat before going to his own room and taking what he hoped would be a very long nap.

* * *

The sparring courtyard of Edoc'sil was full the next day. Riders were practicing archery and swordfighting. High above them their dragons were also sparring with each other. Aravir looked on with growing impatience. Having arrived late, he didn't have an opponent yet. Aravir was a terrible shot with the bow and arrow, so archery was out of the question.

Dead silence fell as Thorn appeared in the sky with the other dragons. All sparring in the courtyard ceased when Murtagh walked out. Few of the new Riders dared to spar with Murtagh. Considering his reputation, Murtagh didn't blame them. He scanned the crowd of once-sparring Riders, elf and human alike, until he saw Aravir.

Aravir met Murtagh's gaze and nodded, accepting the challenge. They walked to the center of the courtyard and drew their swords. The new Dragon Riders didn't have Rider swords since the elven smith, Rhunon, swore to never make another one, Eragon's sword being the exception. Murtagh had kept Zar'roc, it was his sword now, not Morzan's.

Aravir and Murtagh circled each other, while the other Riders gathered around to watch them. Suddenly Aravir lunged at Murtagh, who parried the blow with Zar'roc and shoved Aravir back. Murtagh then went on the offensive, raining a series of heavy blows on the retreating Aravir.

Despite Murtagh's ferocity, Aravir was able to block or dodge most of his attacks. Aravir side-stepped a lunged that would have embedded Zar'roc in his ribs and let the momentum of it carry Murtagh past him. Overbalanced, Murtagh stumbled forward, but quickly regained his footing.

Murtagh turned around to see Aravir charging at him. He stepped in to meet Aravir's charge. Lacking momentum, Murtagh soon found himself retreating, step by step, while fending off a barrage of fierce attacks from Aravir. Aravir's sudden burst of fury suprised him, but he kept looking for an opening. Murtagh ducked under a backhand slash from Aravir and, seeing his opening, shoulder-tackled him. The unexpected attack knocked Aravir off his feet.

Though dazed, Aravir had enough sense roll away before Murtagh could attack him. He was on his feet again soon and facing Murtagh. Having tested each others defenses, both Aravir and Murtagh charged.

The other Riders and dragons watched the furious duel in silence. The only sound was the din of sword hitting sword as Aravir and Murtagh matched each other blow for blow. Back and forth they clashed, but neither of them could gain the upper hand.

Aravir leaped at Murtagh, trapping his sword and Zar'roc between them, locking them in a contest of strength. Suddenly a firm voice called out "Enough." Aravir and Murtagh looked over to find Eragon standing among the other Riders. They disengaged immediately.

Murtagh wiped sweat from his brow. "I haven't had a sparring match that intense in quite a while, my brother taught you well." he said to Aravir. Murtagh hesitated, then nodded toward Eragon. "He wants to speak with you, to hear a full account of what happened in Surda." Aravir merely nodded and sheathed his sword.

_You fought well._ commented Voden.

Aravir looked up and smiled at him. _Enjoyed the show, did you? How long did we spar anyway?_

_Over an hour._ answered the dragon.

_We'll fly together after my talk with Eragon._ Aravir promised him.

Voden hummed deeply, satisfied, and flew off. Aravir watched him go, then left the courtyard with Eragon.

* * *

Aravir woke with a start. He sat up, sweating, and looked around. _A dream, only a dream._ Aravir told himself. He put his head in his hands, wanting to forget the haunting images of death.

_Aravir?_ asked Voden, concern in his voice.

_I'm fine . . . It was just a dream._ Aravir replied.

_The same one as before?_ Voden stated more than asked.

_I'll be alright, Voden._ Aravir assured him._ I just need some air._ Voden seemed unconvinced, but didn't press the issue.

Aravir got out of bed and looked out his window. It was past midnight, but still several hours before dawn. Aravir put on a robe and started for the door. _I could use a walk._ he thought.

* * *

**Two chapters down. This chapter was an introduction to the new Dragon Riders in general. The next chapter will focus on Arkon or the desert people. Aravir's dreams will be explained later on in the story.**

**I look forward to your reviews.**


	4. Hornet's Nest

**Those of you who have been waiting for an update on this have every right to be pissed at me for making you wait. The delay was due to computer problems and poor time management on my part. But I've stalled long enough! If you've also been waited for the conflict of the sory to begin then this is your chapter.**

**Chapter 3 Hornet's Nest**

* * *

_Vroengard, One Month Later_

"Tell me again, why are Voden and I being sent to Dras-Leona?" Aravir asked as he and Murtagh walked down the corridor leading to Edoc'sil's gates.

"Because you two have experience in dangerous situations." Murtagh answerd.

"You and Thorn have much more experience than we do." Aravir countered without missing a beat.

"Thorn and I are going to Feinster tomorrow." said Murtagh evenly. When the younger Rider gave him a curious look, he added "It's for the same reason you're going to Dras-Leona. We'll be in no less peril than you and Voden."

_What sort danger are we getting into?_ asked Voden. Aravir repeated the question to Murtagh.

Murtagh fell silent for a few minutes, then asked "How much do you know about these strangers from the desert?"

Aravir folded his arms across his chest as he considered the question. He and Voden had seen signs of these strangers on their trips to and from Surda. Temples devoted to their mysterious god had been built in several small towns and villages that Aravir had passed through. Aravir had also seen many pyres for sacrificing animals, and sometimes people, in public. Apparently, the strangers wouldn't hesitate to kill anyone who didn't follow their creed. Aravir could definitely see the potential danger in dealing with such volatile people.

"It seems to me," Aravir began. "that these people want to convert as many people as possible to their faith. They kill most people who don't follow them. In other words, they're a threat to peace."

Murtagh nodded. "That's why Eragon wants us to keep an eye them." he replied. "It's actually their followers who been causing most of the trouble of late, killing whoever the strangers deem unworthy. In fact, over the last month, the strangers themselves have been seen less and less. It's as if they came here to inspire violence, create chaos, and then leave."

"We won't know anything for certain until we reach our appointed destinations." stated Aravir. "Speaking of which, I should be leaving. You still want to wait until tomorrow?" Murtagh merely nodded.

"How could I forget? You old men do need your rest." Aravir said, his voice dripping sarcasm. As he was walking away Aravir heard Murtagh say "With a tongue like you won't live to be half my age."

Aravir came to the end of the corridor and stopped abruptly in front of the ten foot marble statue of Brom. He gave the legendary Dragon Rider a formal salute, then walked through the gates of Edoc'sil to where Voden waited for him outside.

* * *

_Dras-Leona_

The streets of the city were crowded. They were filled with civillians, merchants and other businessmen, which was normal for any center of trade. There were also many homeless people sitting or sleeping in the alleys, an unpleasant reminder that even then, seventy years after Galbatorix's death, poverty was still a major problem in Dras-Leona.

Aravir stood outside the cathedral that had once been used to worship Helgrind. Now it was used by the desert strangers. Aravir had his back to the building so it wouldn't look like he was spying on the place, which is exactly what he was doing. He was certain no one inside the cathedral would notice him. The builing looked empty. If it was, Aravir decided, he'd look around inside, find out what he could, and leave before the strangers returned.

Aravir glanced around him before turning to enter the cathedral. He wasn't surprised by the sight that greeted him when he walked through the doors. The cathedral appeared to be just as empty on the inside as it did on the outside. Though he hadn't been inside many religious buildings in his life, Aravir knew some one should have been there to at least greet him. The chapel looked vacant. If his experience as a Rider had taught Aravir anything, it was that appearances were often deciving. He knew this building was not empty.

Walking warily, with a hand on the hilt of his sword, Aravir entered the chapel. He was assaulted by the stench of burned flesh almost immediately. The strangers must have performed some of their live sacrifices here. A glance at the altar confirmed this suspicion. It was covered in ashes and blood. Again, Aravir wasn't surprised. The strangers culture seemed to be centered around violence.

The sound of footsteps turned Aravir's attention to his left, where he saw a hidden door opening. Two figures stood in the doorway. They wore the long tunics and baggy trousers of those who live in the desert and held scimitars in their hands. Their skin was tanned a deep brown, no doubt from years spent in the desert sun. Both of them were bald with goatees. They also had pointed ears like elves, but these were not elves.

Realization hit Aravir like a slap across the face. These were the strangers from the Hadarac desert.

The stangers regarded Aravir with open hostility. One of them said something to Aravir in a language that he'd never heard before. Without warning the strangers charged at Aravir shouting "Yta Arkon!"*

Aravir barely had time to draw his sword as the strangers closed the distance between themselves and him. The strangers throw themselves at Aravir, slashing wildly with their scimitars, attempting to overwhelm him with shear ferocity. Their combined offensive forced Aravir to retreat. The strangers pressed their attack relentlessly, Aravir found himself dodging the blades of the scimitars more often than blocking them. He knew he couldn't keep this up. If Aravir was going to survive, he had to change the momentum of this fight.

_Time to get creative._ thought Aravir. He reached for the magic that resided within him while parrying a backhand slash from one of the strangers. Aravir held that stranger at bay. The other stranger charged in from the right, his scimitar held over his head. Before he could attack, Aravir's elbow slammed into his jaw. Aravir blocked another scimitar blow and sprang backwards a few feet, giving himself a respite.

A respite that didn't last long. The stranger with the injured jaw was recovering, their furious assault would be renewed at any moment. Seeing this, Aravir raised his right hand and shouted "Garjzla!" A bolt of magical energy shot from Aravir's palm and struck the nearest stranger in the chest, sending him flying. He hit the wall twenty feet away from Aravir and slumped to the floor, either unconscious or dead.

Aravir turned to the other stranger and charged. The stranger held his ground stubbornly, for about a minute. Aravir soon discovered that he was a better swordsman than the stranger. In a few moments this fight would be over. However, Aravir's hopes of victory were dashed when he noticed movement nearby and looked at the hidden door again. He knew then that the fight would likely end with his death : two more strangers had entered the chapel.

One of the newcomers pointed at Aravir and chuckled. A moment later a crimson bolt energy leapt from the stranger's hand, exploding just to the right of Aravir, who had dodged it at the last possible second. The force of the magical blast threw him across the room.

Aravir slowly got to his feet and picked up his sword. He turned to face the strangers, ready to fight to the last breath. Aravir raised his sword in a gesture of defiance, seeing his death in their eyes. Suddenly one of the strangers gave cry of rage and pointed at the entrance to the cathedral. Aravir risked a glance in that direction.

Two elves stood in the doorway of the chapel. One was male, the other was female. Before Aravir could get a good look at them, the strangers attacked. One of them came at Aravir, the others charged at the elves. Aravir was soon too caught in his own fight to worry about the elves.

The fighting in the chapel was over in a mattter of minutes. The strangers were outmatched by the elves. In their rage, they forgot about using magic and relied on their scimitars. Both of those strangers were soon lying dead in pools of blood. Aravir, being more skilled at swordfighting than his opponent, had little difficulty gaining the upper hand. That stranger soon fell headless to the floor.

The elves stood by the entrance of the chapel, bloody swords in their hands. They both wore green tunics. The male had coal-black hair and blue eyes. A sheathed dagger hung from his belt. The female's eyes were brown, her silver hair went past her shoulders. She had bow and a quiver full of arrows slung arcoss her back. Both of them regarded Aravir with suspicion.

These were the first elves that Aravir had met who weren't Dragon Riders like himself. Fortunately for him, he knew the proper thing to say. Aravir showed the elves his gedwey ignasia. "Eka ai fricai un Shur'tugal." he said.

This satisfied the elves. They then introduced themselves to Aravir. "I am Daeron." said the male. The elves weren't using their traditional greeting, but considering the circumstances of this meeting, Aravir couldn't blame them. "I am Letiri." the female said in the musical accent of the elves.

"I'm Aravir Sigurdsson." stated Aravir. "Thanks for your help." he was quick to add, knowing how important courtesy was to the elves.

"Why were you being attacked?" Letiri asked.

"We Riders want to know what these strangers are up to. I was sent here to reconnoiter." Aravir replied. He glanced around and shrugged. "As you can see, that didn't turn out well. What brought you here in time to aid me?"

"Two months ago I heard a rumor that these strangers were sacrificing live people in their temples. Daeron and I came here to learn the truth." Letiri answered. A frown crossed her beautiful face as she noticed the altar. "The rumor proved to be true. We entered this cathedral after one of the sacrifices and saw the bodies of the stranger's victums." Letiri paused again. She shuddered at the memory. "Both of us were present at the next sacrifice. I prevented them from sacrificing a man who would have been their first victum that night, Daeron freed the people who were to be killed after him."

Aravir sheathed his sword and looked Letiri in the eye. "You're both very courageous." he said in the Ancient Language. Aravir rarely gave out sincere compliments, but he was impressed by the elves actions.

Letiri smiled at his compliment. "We have stayed in the city since that night in order to watch these strangers. This is a great risk we know, but if we can prevent such atrocities as these live sacrifices, we should." she said.

Aravir nodded and pointed at the dead strangers. "What are they?" he asked, again noticing the strangers pointed ears.

"They call themselves Nel'shak." said Daeron."Beyond that and their desert origin, we know very little about them. Though it is clear they're not humans, nor are they elves. We have never encountered this race before in our history. They may not even be from Alagaesia."

As he absorbed this information, Aravir thought back to the fight. One of the strangers, one of the Nel'shak, had used magic without speaking the Ancient Language. Aravir knew it was possible to do so, but it was also very difficult, not to mention dangerous. He heard Daeron's words again. _They may not even be from Alagaesia._ The Nel'shak had cast his spell with no difficulty at all. There were very few creatures that could accomplish such a feat.

Aravir was jolted from his reverie by shouts coming from another part of cathedral. "We should leave." he said. "You shouldn't stay in the city. The Nel'shak will be looking for you. Three of their own are dead. After what you did, stopping one of their live sacrifices, they'll suspect you more than anyone."

"Where's your dragon?" Daeron asked.

"He's safe outside the city." Aravir answered. "I'm returning to him now. You're welcome to come with us if you want."

Letiri and Daeron accepted Aravir's offer and left with him. As they walked the streets of Dras-Leona, Aravir reached out with his mind. _Voden, we're leaving sooner than we planned._ he said.

_What happened?_ Voden demanded.

_I'll explain later, for now just stay where you are._ replied Aravir. _I'm coming to you and I'm not alone._

* * *

**The adventure begins! Aravir's made some new friends and new enemies. Next chapter might be less intense. Don't worry, you'll see Eragon again.**

*** "Yta Arkon" means "For Arkon" in the Nel'shak(strangers) language.**

**As always your reviews are welcome.**


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